


Winter Wonderland

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Pete and Patrick stay warm in front of the fire.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Winter Wonderland

"It's really coming dwn out there," Pete said as he handed Patrick another cup of tea, the remaains of the pizza they had ordered spread out on the coffee table in front of them. "The news said it's not supposed to stop before morning. You might want to think about packing it in before the roads become impassable."

"Maybe." Patrick didn't look concerned as he waved a hand at his laptop screen. "We didn't finish anything, though. The record label is going to be on our ass if we don't come up with something soon." 

Pete snorted. "The label can kiss my ass as far as I'm concerned," he retorted as he bent down in front of the fireplace and threw another log in. "And there's always tomorrow."

Patrick gave him a look. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You've never talked like that before."

Pete sighed as he closed the grate. "Sorry, Pattycakes," he apologized, running a hnad through his hair. "I guess I'm just frustrated."

Patrick looked sympathetic. "We'll come up with something," he said in an effort to soothe. "We got pretty far today." He gestured to the pieces of paper scattered all over the floor. "All we have to do is piece some of it together."

Pete began picking them up. "You sure? " he pressed as he put everything in a neat pile on one of the end tables. "I feel like when we were trying to finish "Grave". Like every word I wrote was utter crap and I should just go back to working at Subway."

"None of it is that bad. Not even "Grave" was that bad," Patrick said as he held out his hand, beckoning with his fingers. "Come here and sit down. You've had so much coffee today that it's a wonder you're not wired for sound."

Pete stuck his tongue out at him, but he did as he was asked. "Sorry, Pattycakes," he apologized again as he put his head in the singer's lap. "Sorry."

"No need for you to be," Patrick said softly as he petted Pete's hair. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

Pete sighed. "I wish I knew."

Patrick sighed as well; he hated it when Pete got like this. "Whatever it is...you can tell me. God knows I've heard just aboout everything from you over the years."

"I know you have. I've told you things I hope to God my mom never finds out." Pete crossed himself for emphasis. "Just...give me a little time and patience? I'll work it out eventually."

After a moment, Patrick shrugged. "Okay. Your call," he said. "But I reserve the right to ask you again in a week if you're still being a moody bitch."

"Fair enough." Pete gave him a grateful smile. "And thank you."

Picking up his cup, Patrick took a long sip of his tea. "Not a problem," he said softly. "Just try to remember I'm here. Okay?"

"Okay." A gleam suddenly lit up in Pete's eyes. "You should see what the firelight is doing to your hair."

Patrick blushed. "You look pretty good yourself," he said shyly.

Pete reached up enough to brush a finger along Patrick's jawline. "Wanna fool around?"

Patrick grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." He leaned down for a kiss.

Pete sighed as Patrick finally drew away. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too." Patrick nodded toward the stairs. "How about we move this to some place a little more comfortable?"

"I've got a better idea." Getting up, Pete took his lover's hand and led him toward the crackling fire. "Come here."

Patrick willingly went into his arms. "So I'm guessing this is why you bought this house in the first place."

Pete's grin was the answer. "Always dreamed about making love to you by firelight," he said as his fingers inched under Patrick's sweater. "How about it?"

Patrick's own hands went to Pete's belt buckle. "What are you waiting for?"

Soon they were both naked and kissing each other hungrily. Pete sighed as Patrick began trailing kisses down his chest. "Patrick...baby..."

"Tell me," Patrick murmured in between kisses. "Tell me your fantasy. I know you have one."

"You're...oh...yo're doing it." Together they sank down onto the rug. "Touching me...tasting me...want to do the same to you." He looked at Patrick, his eyes bright. "God, I want you."

"Want you, too," Patrick said as he slid his hands down Pete's back to cup his ass. "Can we?" he asked hopefully. "Do you have stuff?" 

Pete sat up long enough to grab his pants. "Right here," he said as he pulled a packet of lube out of his wallet. 

Patrick eyed the packet dubiously. "Should I ask how long that's been in there?"

"I think since 2006," Pete said, turning it over in his fingers. "Remember? That show in San Francisco during Gay Pride weekend? We must've gotten pelted with dozens of them." He pressed it into Patrick's hand. "It landed in my guitar case."

"Oh." Patrick ducked his head. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Pete leaned in to kiss him again. "You're kind of sexy all jealous and stuff."

Patrick's face turned as red as his hair. "Shut up."

"Not a chance." He drew Patrick back into his arms. "Come on, baby. Show me what those hips can do."

Tearing he lube packet open with his teeth, Patrick slicked up his fingers. "Tell me if I hurt you," he instructed as he slipped one finger in.

Pete's eyes fluttered shut as he moaned. "God...yes..."

"Yes," Patrick repeated as he turned one finger into two. He put a hand on Pete's hip to keep him from moving. "Easy, now! I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Pete said as he pulled the singer even closer. "Please, Patrick...please don't stop."

"I won't. I promise," Patrick said as he removed his fingers and moved in between the bassist's spread legs. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Both of them moaned as Patick slowly sank into him.

Patrick stopped for a moment, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. "God...you feel so fucking good."

"So do you, baby," Pete breathed, sliding his hands down to clutch at his lover's ass. "My sweet golden angel baby."

"Not...not any of that," Patrick huffed as he began to move.

"I think you are," Pete managed to get out, his hips movng in perfect time with Patrick's. "Oh, God...love you...love you so much..."

"Love you, too...so much," patrick gasped as he moved faster. He was so close, but he wanted Pete with him. "Pete...love..."

"Patrick!" Pete cried out, throwing his head back as he came hard. Burying his face in Pete's tattooed shoulder, Patrick came not more than a moment later.

Sliding out of his lover, Patrick flopped onto his back and forced himself to focus on the ceiling. "Fuck," he breathed, eyes wide as he reached for Pete's hand. "Pete? Love, you okay?"

"Wonderful. Marvelous. Spectacular. Not just okay," Pete said with a shudder. He turned his head to look at Patrick. "You learned some new moves."

Patrick blushed. "Had to during "Soul Punk"," he said simply. "I couldn't just stand up there on stage like an idiot like I had all those years before."

Pete leaned up to kiss him again. "I remember." At Patrick's shocked look, he explained. "I went to your Chicago show."

"You did?" When Pete nodded, Patrick couldn't help but stare. "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?"

Pete brushed a finger along Patrick's jaw. "Neither one of us was in a good place then," he reminded gently.

"Oh." The singer ducked his head again, contrite. "Sorry."

"Shh, baby. Over and done." He cupped Patrick's face in his hands. "It got us here. It got us to this. That's what matters. Okay?"

After a moment, Patrick nodded. "Okay." Turning his head, he watched as the snow softly fell onto the tree outside Pete's front window. "It really is beautiful out there."

"In here, too," Pete teased, kissing his hair as he slid his arms around Patrick's waist. "And yeah, it is."

Pulling a blanket off the couch, Patrick draped it over them both. "Can we just sit here and watch it for awhile?"

"For as long as you want," Pete whispered, kissing him again as he snuggled close. _Tomorrow,_ he decided, watching the snow fall outside as it blanketed the world in winter white. Nestled in his underwear drawer was a black velvet box bought months ago. _I'll give it to him tomorrow._ With that thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
